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HOW YOU MET YOUR MOTHER

katie pearce

Welcome! After working sans paycheck in Art History for a decade, Katie decided to start her own blog, which now turns $0.02 profit/day more than her previous line of work. Come back often for your daily fix of dry wit.

Dear Evangeline, I have a bit of news for you and, while I do think I will regret writing this at some point in your teenage future, it’s just something I need to get off my chest: I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing. Specifically, I mean that in regards to parenting, but that very general statement can… Read more →

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The holiday season means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Sure, some celebrate Christmas, others celebrate Hanukah, and an increasing minority celebrate no religious holiday at all. But I’m talking more about the fact that this season reminds me of the eruption of an emotional volcano, when many adults ooze with a lava of anxiety, trepidation,… Read more →

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Life is really complicated. And the older I get, the more complicated it becomes. I guess the universe evens things out by allowing me to give a few less f*$*s. Because if I was traversing the same route I was in my teenage years and early twenties, my brain would have blown a gasket by now. Funny how that works.… Read more →

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Clearly, our country is divided. We can feel it, hear it… hell, we can even see it in stark red and blue colors on the electoral college map. But the place that I sense the deepest divide is not racial in orientation. It isn’t geographical. And it isn’t rooted in sex or gender. It’s generational. And nowhere can that be seen more clearly… Read more →

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My vote is with Hillary Clinton. For so many reasons, but if I had to sum it into one word, it would be this: humanity. And last night, for perhaps the first time in this debate series, I saw Hillary go somewhere that I hadn’t seen her go. When the issue of women’s rights arose, something happened to her. Her… Read more →

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I saw the nurse leave the room for a moment, just as I knew something was wrong. “Help!” I wanted to cry out, but my voice had been taken from me. I started to bang on the chair, hopeful that one of the other patients sitting for their chemotherapy treatment would notice. Thankfully, they did. Within moments the drug being… Read more →

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Cats supposedly have nine lives. There’s also been a lot of talk about magic potions that are numbered nine, and the Ancient Greeks must have had good reason for choosing nine muses. Tomorrow, I will walk into the OR, assume a crucifix-like position, and drift off to sleep to endure surgery number nine. I’m hoping the number will serve me… Read more →

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Last night, the Democratic Party officially nominated a woman who does not know how to keep her mouth shut. She embodies so many qualities that I hope my daughter does not come to possess (read: impishness, for one), but Hillary’s outspokenness is hardly one of them. Au contraire, mon amie! Hillary’s voice represents a collective one, and the tenor of… Read more →

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I can remember the first time it happened. It was the beginning of the school year and I was in second grade. A little girl with dark skin took up the desk next to me, but I had never seen her before. It quickly became apparent to me that she did not speak English. I was intrigued. I went home… Read more →

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I have a daughter. She’s three and she’s perfect. Her ridiculous sense of humor makes it impossible to not have a smile plastered to your face when she’s around, and her bouncy red curls can keep my gaze immured for hours on end. She was born at 37 weeks, with scores of 9 on both Apgar’s. She was conceived… Read more →

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Katie is the mother to three year-old Evangeline and a survivor of severe Inflammatory Bowel Disease. In between frantically calling her mother for help and stepping on legos, she writes, sells on Etsy, and operates under the pretense of "working mother."
Katie has been a featured writer on sites such as "Scary Mommy," "The Mighty" and "In the Powder Room." Other works worthy of note are many pro bono writing jobs for desperate friends that like to pretend they can't write their own shit.